Those Three Words
by Lise Blodeuwedd
Summary: Mickey wants to say it, he really does, but the words just won't come Warnings: A bit OOC in the beginning, a LOT OOC in the end Also, oral sex, rimming and


"I love you."

The words are whispered into the dark room, barely audible even though they're said close to Mickey's ear. Ian brushes a strand of hair from his sweaty forehead while Mickey pretends to be asleep. He keeps quiet, not knowing how to react to that. It's not like he didn't see it coming, not as if he didn't know how Ian felt, but to actually hear the words makes something stir inside of him, a warm feeling leaves butterflies in his stomach at the same time that it makes his throat close and tears prickle his eyes. Ian rests his head into Mickey's shoulder and soon his soft snoring can be heard. It's only a long time later that Mickey manages to fall asleep.

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"I love you." There's no escaping the words now, no way to pretend he didn't hear them. Ian says them loud and clear, looking into Mickey's eyes with such intensity that the older man has to look away. They'd been having an argument, once again about their future together, when Ian decided to bring in the big guns. Mickey wipes his lower lip with his thumb, chewing his cheek inside. He wants to say it back, if only because he knows that that's what Ian wants him to do, but he can't. It's like the words are stuck in his throat, choking him, making it impossible to breath. He knows he likes Ian, cares about him, wants him to be always happy, worries if he is sick or sad or in trouble. He knows he misses him when they're not together and that many times he sees or hears something that just reminds him of Ian, and that always makes him smile. He knows he likes having sex with him, more than likes it, actually, and that with Ian he isn't ashamed of anything, he feels comfortable and safe. He knows he trusts Ian completely and that he counts the hours till he sees him, that being with him, regardless of what they're doing, is the highlight of his day. But does he love him? He's not sure about that, and every time he thinks about it he gets more and more confused. He ignores the little voice in his head asking him what else could love be, if not all that, and pulls Ian closer for a passionate kiss. It's not the words Ian wants to hear yet, but it's a start.

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"I love you!" The words are half shouted, half moaned this time, rushing out of Ian's mouth while he comes inside Mickey, his hands gripping the milky skin of his hips tightly. They're bodies stick together in a mess of sweat and come and Mickey tastes salt when he licks Ian's neck. He wills himself to say them back, to tell Ian how he feels, but once more the words get caught in his throat and he can't. He looks into Ian's green eyes and silently prays that he'll understand, that he'll be patient and wait for Mickey to be able to say it back. His fingers caress Ian's cheeks and he pulls the other man closer, joining their lips in a sweet and tender kiss. Ian doesn't say anything, just kisses the tip of Mickey's nose and smiles at the face he makes. They lay together in bed, the covers fallen to the floor. When Ian's eyes have long closed, Mickey runs his finger through his chest, watching his relaxed face. He spells an M, then an E, then T, O and O, and sighs, resting his head against Ian's shoulder. _Me too_.

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"I love you." It makes him pause and lift his head quickly. It's not like he hasn't heard this before, but now he wasn't really expecting it. It was said so casually, like it wasn't a big deal, like it didn't mean the world to him, like it was just mere words that didn't have such big meaning and impact. Mickey had simply handed Ian a cold beer when he'd arrived home, looking exhausted, and Ian had shown his gratitude with a smile, a thank you, and those words, those special three words that Mickey couldn't manage to say back. He grabs a beer for himself and sits beside Ian on the couch, watching him while he watches the news. Ian smiles at him and he looks away quickly. This is getting ridiculous, why can't he just say it? Granted, he has never said those words to anyone before, not even his parents or his sister (at least not that he remembers), but this is Ian Gallagher, the guy he's been sort of together with for literally years, the only guy he's ever kissed, the guy he'd do anything for. Surely he can say it back, right? He steels himself, taking a deep breath.

"Ian?"

The redhead looks at him expectantly, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah?"

He chokes, his tongue feels like cotton and he's gapping like a fish, feeling utterly silly. Ian's still looking at him, waiting for him to say something, so he just takes the bottle from Ian's hands and sets it on the coffee table, pulling his hand and standing up.

"Let's fuck." He pulls him towards the bedroom, taking as a victory that Ian doesn't protest, even though he knows he's tired.

Mickey pulls his top over his head and sits on the bed, spreading his legs and bringing Ian closer to him. His eyes are level with Ian's crotch and he smirks, remembering the old nickname he'd given Ian even before they'd started fucking.

"Shirt off, Firecrotch."

Ian grins and pulls the green t-shirt he's wearing over his head. The muscles on his abdomen flex and stretch with the movement and Mickey nearly drools with desire. He puts his hands on Ian's hips and brings him even closer, nuzzling his stomach. He places reverent kisses on his abs, licking along the lines of muscle and feeling Ian's breath catch and his hand rest on top of Mickey's head. Mickey opens the button on Ian's jeans and slowly unzips them, watching Ian's face with eyes full of lust. He works his hands inside the boxers, tightly gripping his ass and squeezing it. Ian sways on the spot, grabbing Mickey's shoulders for support. Mickey runs a finger down Ian's crack and presses it against his hole, and he squirms, moaning.

"Fuck, Mick."

The shorter man pulls his hands away, bringing Ian's jeans down in one single motion and leaving them to pool at Ian's feet. Ian steps out of them, kicking them to the side messily, nearly tripping over with excitement. His erection is tenting the boxers, leaning slightly to the left, and Mickey feels his own cock twitch and harden at the sight. He lightly tugs on his balls, trying to go slower and not come within minutes. He runs his fingers through the waistband of the boxers, but doesn't pull them down yet. Instead, he leans forward to run the tip of his nose up Ian's cock, grazing the larger vein on the underside through the thin fabric of the boxers, and Ian shudders, his fingers pressing harder against Mickey's shoulders. He opens his mouth to engulf the head of Ian's erection still through the boxers, sucking fiercily before letting go and smirking when he hears Ian groan. Mickey allows some saliva to pool on his mouth and sucks on the head of Ian's cock again, the saliva and the pre-cum leaving a big wet spot on his boxers. Ian curses under his breath, his eyes focused on Mickey and the movements of his lips and fingers. Mickey looks into his eyes and wills him to just understand, to get once and for all the he loves him, he truly does, even though he can't seem to form the words out loud. He tries to convey all his heart in that fiery look, in his loving caresses and eagerness to please. He finally pulls Ian's boxers down and his erection springs free, his long dick red and swollen and inviting. Mickey wastes no more time, gripping Ian's shaft and pulling it into his mouth. The small moans that escape through the redhead lips encourage him to go further, so he flattens his tongue against the base of his dick and takes more of him in his mouth. He loves this, the feeling of Ian's heavy cock in his mouth, the throbbing warmth and the knowledge that he's able to make Ian so pleased, so happy. He sucks deeply, bobbing his head up and down and taking more of Ian with every movement, until he's deep throating him, nose touching the red pubes. He takes short shallow breaths, humming around the hard dick in his mouth and feeling it pulsate. Ian tugs at his hair to warn him and Mickey pulls back, keeping only the head in his mouth as Ian comes into his mouth and sucking on it until the last drop. Ian looks at him with heavy-lided eyes and a huge smile that warms his heart.

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

The words are there, right there, fixed on his mind, itching on his tongue. He stands up and kisses Ian, tongues passionately dancing together, the taste of come still in his mouth.

"I…"

Ian stares into his eyes, paying attention, and his will weakens.

"I…"

"You…?"

"I… wanna fuck you."

Ian's eyebrows shoot up.

"You mean… switch?"

"Yeah, man, let's do it. We haven't done that in ages."

Ian smiles and shrugs. "Sure." His hands go up Mickey's waist and pull him closer and he licks behind Mickey's ear, making him shudder and moan. He nibbles on his earlobe and whispers in his ear.

"Rim me first."

Mickey shivers and nods. Ian lies down on his stomach on the large bed with his legs spread and his ass up, a couple of pillows pushing him up and another one under his head. It makes Mickey warm all over, his cock painfully hard now. He takes off the rest of this clothes and tugs on bis balls again, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He kneels between Ian's legs and places his hands on his thighs, so softly they're barely touching it at all, and slowly runs them up, the tiny hairs on his legs standing up. He palms Ian's ass cheeks, squeezing them and using his thumbs to massage them. He spreads his own legs, getting more comfortable, and bends over to place soft kisses on Ian's back. He uses his fingers to spread Ian's cheeks and blows on his tender pucker. Ian's moan and the way he buries his head on the pillow tell him he's going in the right direction. His tongue darts out and touches Ian's hole, almost too fast, but he does it again and again, teasing the man below him. Using only the tip of his tongue, he licks the around the rim, making small circles and allowing his saliva to wet the area. He begins sucking around it, leaving red marks on the tender skin. He licks repeatdly, the moans and groans coming from Ian fueling his desire. He dips his tongue inside his hole, fucking him with it and feeling him pushing back.

"Fuck, Mick. Just… fuck."

He pulls back and puts his finger in his mouth, coating it with saliva before slowly pushing into Ian, only until the first knuckle is in. He turns and twists his finger, pulling out and pushing in again, further this time. He keeps preparing Ian, relishing in the feeling of his oh-so-very-tight ass around his finger and the notion that it'll soon be around his dick. He pulls out and reaches for the lube on top of the nightstand, where they usually keep it – no point in putting it away if they use it so often. He spreads some on two fingers, carefully introducing them on Ian, who groans in a mix of pain and pleasure. He waits until he feels Ian relax around him and his body adjusts until he starts moving his fingers in and out, twisting and scissoring, trying to brush his fingers against his prostrate to elicit those little whimpers that always drive him crazy. Satisfied that Ian is relaxed enough, and also growing increasingly impatient as his own erection is neglected, Mickey pours a good amount of lube onto his hand and spreads it around his shaft, hissing and groaning at the feeling.

"Ready?"

"Fuck yeah."

He supports his weight on his left hand, using his right hand to guide himself into Ian. It's warm and wet and still very tight and he can't help the low groan his throat emits. His thrusts are small and slow at first, the gentle burning leading him on. Ian pushes back, meeting him half-way and increasing the friction. They gradually pick up speed, their sweaty bodies sliding together, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and their gasps and moans filling the room. Ian murmurs his name over and over along with encouraging words that become incomprehensible as his second orgasm approaches. He isn't usually that vocal when they fuck, except for when he bottoms, and it makes Mickey proud of himself, that he can make Ian dissolve into a moaning mess like that. He grips Ian's hips as his thrusts become erractic and his breath ragged. His toes curl and his vision blurs as he shoots his load into Ian, a loud "fuck" on his lips. He feels more than sees or hears when Ian climaxes too, tightning impossibly around him. He thinks he feels him shudder, believes he sees him throwing his head back and hears him shout out, but he feels too dazed to be sure of anything.

Mickey pulls out and lets himself fall next to Ian, sighing. Ian turns to face him, grinning that stupid grin of his that makes Mickey want to kiss him senseless. As he pulls Ian close and buries his face on his neck, he promises to himself that he will say those three words. He just needs a bit more time.

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" I love you." Ian says, confident, eyes looking right into Mickey's as he sits on his lap. He's grabbing Mickey's cheeks in both his hands and even if Mickey felt like saying it back, he physically wouldn't be able to. So he just stares back, laughing internally at how high Ian is right now. The redhead leans even closer, booping his nose with Mickey's.

"I love you", he repeats, softly kissing Mickey's lips, then his cheeks, his jaw, down his neck, his throat.

"I love how pale you are." His fingers run down Mickey's arm.

"I love your eyes." He stares into Mickey's eyes. "They're so blue. It's beautiful."

Mickey keeps quiet, unsure of what to say. Lucky for him, Ian continues rambling.

"I love your voice. Love when you talk dirty to me. Love to fuck you. Lover your ass. Love your cock."

He rolls his hips to push his crotch against Mickey's, who just grips his hips to keep him from falling. Ian wraps his hands around Mickey's neck and rests his forehead against Mickey's.

"Will you ever say it back?"

Mickey doesn't answer, the words once more stuck in his throat. He can't take it, though, the way Ian looks at him hopeful and also sad. He decides he'll say it, he definitely will, but not right now. He'll prepare himself better, make a big occasion out of it, and then he'll finally say it. Someday.

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"I love you." Mickey's voice is shaky but the words are clear. His eyes are fixed ahead and his jaw is set in determination. "I love you." He repeats, more slowly this time, emphasizing every word. "I love you." He repeats again, staring at his reflexion and feeling butterflies dancing in his stomach. He's nervous, but it's now or never. Enough rehearsing.

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"I love you." The words come out clear as day, not all together, not muttered, not chocked or stammered. Mickey watches in awe as Ian's lips spread into a huge grin ans his eyes shine with happiness. He flungs himself at Mickey, one hand in the back of his head and the other around his waist as he kisses him full on the mouth. Mickey kisses back, abandoning himself into the kiss, showing in the usual way what he's just at last been able to put into words. They break apart breathless and Mickey smirks, raising the golden band he'd been holding.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, Mickey Milkovich! Of course I'll marry you!"


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